Little Games
by crazy.PLEASE
Summary: "She's perfect." Peeta declares, his own tears coming down his cheeks. Katniss turns to him, happiness and love and pure joy on her face.  No fear.  No pain.  This is what their daughter has already done for her.  A 2 shot about Katniss' first pregnancy.
1. Peeta

**I love me some Peeta and Katniss so I wrote this :)) Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: Totally forgot! haha Thanks Picaresca. Eye for reminding me!**

Peeta stops in the doorway, watching her as she stares at herself in the mirror. Her body is different now. Her belly is bigger, her breasts bigger, her limbs thicker. He sees how it terrifies her, how much she _hates _it, even though she never says anything. He always was able to read what she left unspoken.

Her fingers splay over her belly, her eyes filled with so much fear and confusion that it breaks his heart. He wonders all the time if she regrets this, if she wants to get rid of this baby. He knows it's silly, knows that she would never kill their baby no matter how scared she is, but it eats at him every time he sees something like that in her eyes.

He moves forward, smiling at her in the mirror as he wraps his arms around her. He presses them to her belly, kissing her shoulder. Her fingers intertwine with his, her head leaning against his. "I feel fat."

He chuckles, pressing another kiss to her neck, right under her ear. Her breath hitches; he knows what that spot does to her. "You're beautiful." He replies, pulling her closer to him.

"You always think that." She mumbles, rolling her eyes at him in the mirror. He grins, turning her toward him and meeting her eyes.

"Nothing will change that." He said, his voice serious and filled with love. She shakes her head, but smiles happily all the same. He presses a kiss to those smiling lips, deep and passionate. Thanking her yet again for this baby. She returns it, laying her head against his chest after and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you. I love you both."

Her hands tighten around him. He presses another reassuring kiss to her hair.

* * *

><p>When it kicks the first time, she is so terrified. Frozen in the chair, her eyes wide and her hands shaking. She tries to control herself, tries to look okay but fails miserably. Usually she was so good at hiding what she feels, but these damn <em>hormones <em>made everything so overwhelming.

"Mrs. Ghira said it would happen soon." He says, brushing her hair away from her face, taking her shaking hand in his. "It's normal. It means the baby is okay."

He says it, but knows that not what this is about. Before this she was just getting sick (something like the flu, didn't have to be a baby), she was getting fatter (just gaining weight, didn't have to be a baby), but now it was moving, it was forcing her to acknowledge that it was really, _truly _in there.

"It's fine." She says after a long while, her jaw tight and her back stiff when she stands. "It's supposed to happen."

"Katniss." He whispers, taking her face in his hands. Her eyes meet his and something breaks, her lip shaking, her eyes filling with tears. "It's okay." He brings her to him, holds her close.

"I don't want it moving in there. Everything is already to… to scary." She admits her arms tight around him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't do this for you." He whispers into her hair, meaning every word. It pains him, _kills _him to see her so scared, so fearful. He wants this baby, prayed for this baby for 14 years. But he hates how scared she is, how much she hates this all so much. Sometimes he regrets pushing her. "It will be over in just a few months."

"I hate it." She whispers and his heart breaks. He pulls back, wiping her face of those awful tears, giving her a loving smile.

"How about some cheesy buns?" He asks softly, his thumb running across her cheek. She sniffs, looking like a small child as she nods. He kisses her softly, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment before heading toward the kitchen. He looks back, watches her sink into her chair. She sits, staring ahead. He knows the baby's moving, fluttering when her hand clenches so hard he's sure she is going to draw blood.

* * *

><p>Her belly is round and there and it is obvious she's carrying their baby. People around town are careful with her, their eyes avoiding her belly, never touching. Not after she nearly broke some poor man's hand off that dared to try to touch her stomach. Peeta hardly even touches her belly. Only at night, never when she's awake and got that fear deep in her eyes.<p>

At night he moves her shirt up, pressing his hand to her round, tight belly. He smiles as he feels their little baby move against his hand. He wonders if it's a little fist or little foot stretching in there. He talks to the little girl (they don't know, but he always pictures a little girl, beautiful and dark and amazing like his Katniss), tells her how special she is, how much he loves her. She's very active at night, and it prides him that she seems to calm when he talks to her. And sometimes Katniss stirs, and he jerks his hand away until he's sure she's still asleep. He's not sure what she would say if she heard him.

She doesn't touch her belly much either, avoids it like she's scared. Sometimes when the baby is giving her trouble, moving around too much or kicking her so hard it hurts she'll rub the spot softly.

She naps often now, so tired from the pregnancy. They lounge today in bed, her swollen feet in his lap as they watch some news from the capitol lazily. Her eyes are closed and he is surprised when her face scrunches, her hand moving to her belly.

He watches her, hand on the peak of her belly where their little girl must have kicked her. "Is the baby kicking?" He asks casually, turning his eyes to the TV as to not look too concerned. He knows how irritated she gets when he hovers.

"It won't stop." She mutters, her hand falling to her side and her eyes still on him. She scoots over suddenly, pats the open space. "Can you talk to it? It always stops when you do."

He turns to look at her, surprised and fearful. She smiles knowingly, her black curls around her head like a dark halo. "It wakes me up at night. It stops when you talk to it." He hesitates, still watching her. Her eyes soften, filled with love. "It's okay, Peeta. It's okay if you want to… feel it. It's your baby too."

He smiles at her, moving to lie beside her, his head on her chest. He presses his hands to her stomach under the ratty old t-shirt of his she's wearing. He feels the baby immediately, rolling around and kicking. Katniss' fingers run through his hair tiredly, her eyes closing as he begins rubbing small circles into her stomach. "Mommy is trying to sleep, little girl. You gotta calm down…"

The baby stills within minutes and he feels Katniss' fingers slip from his hair, her soft snore filling the room.

* * *

><p>When he has his first flash back in nearly two years, he can't look at her for a week. He didn't do anything, didn't even grab her and it wasn't a big one, she says to him. She is reassuring him, comforting him for the first time in nearly 7 months. "I'm okay, Peeta. It was a small one. Everything is fine."<p>

It's not fine. She's pregnant, their little helpless baby is inside her and he could have hurt her, could have harmed the baby. And what about when it's out, when it's here smiling at him and suddenly he's confused, he's alone with it and he's that deadly mutt Snow made him. What if he grabbed it, his fingers digging into its little arms the way he has done to her in the past? Leaves those awful bruises he can never, ever forgive himself for no matter how many times she assures him she's okay.

She leans over him, presses a kiss to where the tear slowly makes its way down his cheek. "Peeta, we'll do this together." She whispers, pressing another soft kiss to his cheek, brushes her fingers through his hair. "I'm still sick sometimes too. Sometimes it takes everything just to step out of bed. But on those days, you'll take the baby and you'll play with it and love it for both of us. And on your bad days I'll take it, love it while you're getting better."

He looks at her, takes in the determination in her eyes. No fear, for once there is no fear. He takes her face in his hands, presses kiss after kiss. "Okay," he whispers, his voice cracking as he pulls her to him. "Okay."

She smiles, warm and loving. It's the smile he loves, the one that he looks forward to coming home to. It's the one he hopes she passes onto their baby.

* * *

><p>Only two more weeks and their child will be here. Katniss has small, odd pains that Mrs. Ghira calls Braxton Hicks. They scare her, make her sit for hours until they go away. Mrs. Ghira tells her she'll know the difference, know when the pains are the real thing.<p>

He makes her stay around the house now, stays with him and leaves the bakery with a young man he hired years ago. He makes sure she does hardly anything, just rests and is okay.

Haymitch is over when it really starts. He peers at her in his drunken haze and raises a dark eyebrow. "What's wrong, sweetheart? About to pop?"

Peeta looks to her, watching her rub her back and try to hide the pain from him. "Katniss…" he says, panic and fear and joy rising in him. She looks to him, her eyes fearful as her hand comes to rest on her belly. "Katniss-"

"Go get Mrs. Ghira." She mutters, looking away from him. Haymitch nearly chokes on his drink, coughing as he stares at her. Peeta is already by her side, asking questions, touching her belly and her face. "Go get her!" She cries and Haymitch is up, running and shaking in fear. Peeta helps her up the stairs, sits her down on their bed. Her hands shake as she presses them to her belly, her face scrunched in pain.

"Katniss, I'll be here the whole time." He tells her, pressing a kiss to her hair and getting the things that Mrs. Ghira left in preparation for this very moment. He jumps in surprise when she snatches his hand, grips it so hard he's afraid his fingers will break. She looks at him, her dark eyes wide and fearful.

"Peeta, what if I-I can't-"

He shakes his head, squeezing her hand and staring her in the face. "You can. You're so strong Katniss, so loving. You can."

Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn't have much time to cry as Mrs. Ghira comes in, hurrying around and giving orders. Katniss obeys, but never, ever lets go of his hand. Haymitch stays, to his surprise, even when she begins to scream and curse the both of them.

She's in so much pain he can hardly take it. He wants to do this for her and wants Mrs. Ghira to do something to make it easier for her. But he can do nothing but whisper that he loves her, that it will be over soon and hold her hand and move her hair from her face. It takes hours for Mrs. Ghira to tell her it's time to push, that this is it. Katniss looks to him and he smiles, tells her he loves her.

"Push!" Mrs. Ghira orders and Katniss pushes, her chin tucked to her chest, grunting and snorting. If she wasn't so scared and crushing his bones to dust he would laugh at how much like a pig she sounds like.

Mrs. Ghira says she sees the head and Peeta feels his own fear, wonders if he can be a good father, wonders if he can be everything this baby needs. But he doesn't have much time to ponder and get stuck on this because suddenly she holds up a crying, bloody baby and declares her a girl and so much loves fills him it makes him dizzy. "A girl… a baby girl, Katniss." He whispers, pressing a kiss to her sweaty temple. She's so tired and worn, but her eyes are trained on the baby, filling with tears.

"She's… beautiful." She sighs, a sob tearing at her throat as Mrs. Ghira lays her on her chest. She touches her, feels her soft kiss and takes her little hand. "Look at how tiny her fingers are!" She cries, delighted and amazed. Peeta laughs, touching the little fingers for himself. The little baby girl is crying, red and angry. She has Katniss' dark skin, her soft, black hair. But she's got Peeta's eyes.

"She's loud as hell." Haymitch mumbles, but when Peeta finally ts his eyes away from their perfect little girl he actually sees tears in the old man's eyes.

"She's perfect." Peeta declares, his own tears coming down his cheeks. Katniss turns to him, happiness and love and pure joy on her face. No fear. No pain. This is what their daughter has already done for her.

"Perfect." Katniss repeats, hugging her closer and pressing a kiss to her head.

* * *

><p>They name her Alyss, something new and all her own. It was one of Katniss' demands in the beginning. Nothing that connected her with the dead. She was something new and beautiful and perfect.<p>

She grows swiftly, far too fast for Peeta. He feels like he blinks and suddenly she is a smart little five year old, with two braids in her dark hair and a little blue dress on for her first day of school. She looks so much like her mother… except for her eyes. She has his bright blue eyes. Katniss always says she's glad for that, she loves his eyes.

She hopes the new baby has his eyes too, she tells him, her hand on her belly.

Alyss smiles at him, turning to make sure she looks okay. He gathers her in his arms, presses a kiss to her cheek and tells her she's beautiful. Perfect.

"You're mommy had braids like this her first day of school." He tells her, smiling at his wife as she ducks her head, rolling her eyes. She knows where this is going.

"She did?" The little girl cries, excited to be like mommy. He knows she worships Katniss, loves her more than anything.

"She did." He smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple and tugs on one of the braids. "I fell in love with her that day."

They send her to school and she makes mommy promise not to have the new baby without her there. Katniss cries when their back at the house. Mumbles that she misses her and are you sure she's ready? Peeta hugs her, suppressing a smile.

He wonders if she'll cry like this for the next baby's first day of school. Wonders what it'll be like. He hopes for a boy this time, a son to teach and play with.

He watches his wife wipe her tears, her brown eyes soft as he kisses her forehead. "She'll be fine Katniss. She'll be okay."

She nods, believing him. Peeta hasn't steered her wrong before, not during the Games, not with their baby girl. They'll be fine.

They'll be fine, she repeats. Goes over the good things. Her little game.

Yes, they'll be fine.

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	2. Katniss

**Different moments from Katniss' point of view. Enjoy and review Please :))**

The time he asks her before she gives in, his face in worn and his blue eyes filled with so much pain. He just looks at her, silent after another angry back and forth about the pros and cons of having a baby he wants so bad. "Why can't you just see-" He starts again, his voice so broken it kills her. Like a dull knife in her chest, twisting.

"You think I like this?" She hisses, waving her hand between them. "You think I like hurting you and denying you over and over? I wish more than anything I could be a woman who could give you a baby and be happy and love it. I wish more than _anything. _I hate hurting you!" It's the truth. One of her rare moments of actually articulating her feelings for him.

He closes his eyes, his blonde curls falling into his eyes. It's a long, silent moment before he looks back at her. "Please, just… just swear to me that you will think about it. Really, truly give it a thought. Picture it. I'll back off, if you swear that."

Katniss watches him, knowing that even if she gives it a thought, pictures it (she's done all these things, dreamed about it but she won't tell him that, doesn't want to give him false hope) she won't change her mind. She knows this, but because of the pain in those eyes, the one's she loves so much, she nods. "I promise." She whispers, hating herself even more. This is false hope.

He smiles, wide and true and pulls her to him. "Thank you, Katniss. Thank you." He murmurs into her hair. She hugs him tightly, the hate she has for herself filling her stomach with bile.

It isn't her picturing it that changes her mind though; it isn't her giving it a thought. It's that pain on his face as he watches one of the little girls run off, giggling and hugging her father. The way he lights up when he sneaks a little boy a cookie. It's how much she owes him (her life, her sanity, her happiness, _everything_) that makes her cave. How much had he done for her? Why couldn't she do this for him? It was nine months and a painful birth and a life of fearing for that child. But Peeta would be there. Peeta was always there and he had always made things better. Always was there for her. When she was that starving little girl, when Cato cut his leg, when the Quarter Quell came around, when… when the Capitol tortured him into hating her.

So she caved. So she hugged him around the middle that night and whispered they could do it. They could have the baby he wanted so badly. He grabbed her face, his eyes wide and his smile so big and thanked her. Kissed every inch of her face and thanked her and told her he loved her. They made love that night and the next morning he was still so happy, still filled with that joy.

She shook with fear, could hardly breathe when he would turn away from her, giving her a quick moment to express the overwhelming terror that consumed her. But this was for Peeta. For all the things he had done for her.

So she smiled at him when he turned and hugged him as tight as she could.

* * *

><p>She hid her suspicion from him for a while, even though he watched her like a hawk. She had to be completely sure before he knew. She wouldn't give him some hope and happiness just to tell him she got her period a little late. But after five months when it doesn't come for two weeks, she suspects. When her breasts become tender to his touch and against her shirts, she becomes surer. But then, when she pukes for the first time, she knows. But to be sure, she has the healer that came here from 6, Mrs. Ghira, take some blood to the hospital. She refuses to step into that place and see those white walls and think of all the dead.<p>

"You're pregnant." She says simply, all facts and business. She's harsher than her mother, tells it how it is. Katniss likes her for it. She's also thankful when Mrs. Ghira shoves the trash can under her chin when she heaves all she ate that morning into it. It has nothing to do with morning sickness or the baby.

After Mrs. Ghira tells her all she needs to know and gives her pills and orders, she has some alone time to panic and shake and cry a little. She makes sure to get it all out before Peeta comes home so she can put on a happy smile and tell him. She showers, rubs her face and stares at herself in the mirror. She doesn't notice anything as she stares at herself now, wonders if maybe they made a mistake because she looks just the same. Her belly is still flat; her breasts still the same size. But when she puts her clothes back on, braids her hair and gets the kitchen ready for supper and smells something _weird _and her stomach rolls she knows it's true.

Peeta greets her with a smile, kisses her on the lips before starting supper. She watches his back, biting her lip and trying to think of how to tell him. She isn't good at surprises or big gestures like he is. Maybe she should just blurt it out.

They eat and she can't stomach more than a few pieces of the mashed potatoes he fixed. He notices, like he notices everything. He questions.

"I'm pregnant." She says, wincing as the words leave her mouth. Saying it makes it so real. But she doesn't have time to get overwhelmed again. Peeta's fork clangs on his plate, falling in a clatter before he's up and hugging her and kissing her.

"You're sure? You're really pregnant? There is a baby in there?" The questions tumble from his mouth between kisses, his hands all over her flat belly.

She nods, smiling because she can't be happy when he is so overjoyed. She kisses his cheek, hugging him as he continues to murmur thank you, I love you, a baby! There is still fear there, but his happiness is taking over her too.

* * *

><p>Her clothes become tighter, her breasts become bigger and she can see the curve of her belly where the baby is growing. It scares her so much she stops looking at herself in the mirror.<p>

Peeta never touches her either, can see how much she can't stand it. She feels bad, he should enjoy this even if she can't, but right now she just can't take it. Between the changes, the sickness and always being so tired, it's all just too much. And there is nearly 5 more months of this!

They don't tell people at first. She doesn't want it out until she can't hide it anymore for the fear that the cameras and the reporters will come. She won't have any of that around it or her. That would just push her over the edge.

But she tells Haymitch, because it's him and he won't tell anyone. Who is there for him to tell? The only people he really interacts with is those damn geese, Peeta and her and some young maid Peeta hired to clean his house.

He studies her when she blurts it out, takes a deep drink of his alcohol and snorts. "Dear God," he mumbles, chuckling. "I'd give you some of this, but I hear it's bad for it." He points at her belly, shaking his head.

She glares at him, looking away because she can't take that knowing look in his eyes. Flinches when he mutters something along the lines of 'he finally got you.' "I had to," she snaps, folding her arms across her chest, defensive and angry now. "He wanted this so badly. I didn't have a choice! It's like you said, I'll never deserve him!"

Haymitch watches her, those dark eyes filled with something that looked like hurt, but she couldn't be sure because suddenly he was up and stumbling down the hall. She wasn't sure what he was doing, if she should leave him to his drink and his smart ass comments but he returns to quickly for her to decide.

There is a small, worn teddy bear in his hands. It's old and the once white fur is faded. He throws it into her lap, takes another swig of his drink. "It was mine. Don't need the damn thing anymore."

She touches it, feels the soft fluff of its tail and her eyes fill with tears. She hugs it to her chest, looking at her mentor before she starts sobbing, so overwhelmed by this pregnancy and sad for Haymitch and amazed at the fact that they were here alive.

He shakes his head at her tears. "Dear God," He says again, but his eyes are soft when Peeta picks her up after he calls him, watches her clutch that teddy bear to her chest.

"Thank you, for the bear." Peeta says over her shoulder and she hears him grunt. Katniss glances at him before Peeta leads her to the house and she sees the old man's eyes on her stomach, a small smile on his lips.

* * *

><p>It moves all the time now. And it's so big she could see it through her skin, big enough for Peeta to feel it when he touches her belly at night. The few times she touches her stomach, she feels the thump of its foot or fist or watches as it bounces with hiccups. She doesn't touch it often, doesn't like to feel. She knows Peeta waits until she's asleep and touches her stomach, feels the baby and talks to it (her, he thinks it's a her). She actually appreciates it; it moves around so much it wakes her at night and his voice soothes it to sleep.<p>

The camera man asks her all about what the baby feels like when it kicks, how happy it makes her to feel her baby. Isn't she just so happy to have a baby after what happened all those years ago? She grits her teeth, giving some one line answers to him, enough to satisfy and get them far, far away from Peeta and her and her stomach. She only agreed to this after two weeks of being stuck in the house as they waited like vultures outside her house.

The baby kicks the whole time of the interview, almost imitating the thumping of her heart going a million miles an hour in her chest.

She watches the stupid interview in bed the next day, almost laughs as the host try's to twist her snappy answers into something loving and great. Gushes about how the two of them were moving on, becoming a happy little family. How amazing it was that out of all that pain, all that death they have found happiness. The baby thumps again.

She stares at her stomach, feeling it kick at the peak of her belly. She slowly lifts her shirt, watching the baby within punch at her skin, stretch inside. Her stomach is huge, her scars warped and foreign now. She doesn't even know her own body anymore. "They won't come back again. I promise." She says softly, pressing her hand to the top of her belly. It was odd, talking to it. She wasn't sure what to say, didn't have all these loving words like Peeta did. He always was better at talking than she was. "Peeta… your dad…" The word is weird in her mouth. She hasn't called anyone dad in such a long time. But now her Peeta is a dad, or going to be. That makes her mom now. That thought makes her head spin so she focuses back on the baby. "Your dad and I, we'll make sure it's just us. And Haymitch. Annie too, little Finnick and Johanna."

The baby thumped again, almost like it was reaching out for her. She stared at it, her eyes filling with tears. "You'll be loved. You'll have a good life and you'll be loved. It won't be like before." She knows her nightmares aren't going to be real, of some faceless child with Peeta's blonde hair and pale skin running through a forest, its little legs too short to outrun those mutts. Or the one where Prim holds a little, chubby baby, trying to protect it as Snow looms over them, that twisted smile on his face.

The baby would grow up good and pure and _happy _with Peeta as its father. Loving it and baking with it and not haunted by trackerjackers or dead little sisters. Peeta would be the very best father, loving and gentle and kind. Everything he was with her.

She just wasn't sure about herself. She couldn't be sure, what kind of mom she would be to the little baby growing inside her.

"Peeta, he'll love you. He'll take care of you."

That, she knew, would always be sure and true.

* * *

><p>The pain was overwhelming. Katniss had been through pain before, her father's death, nearly starving to death after, the Games, her skin charred off. But this was horrible. Hours and hours of it, coming closer and closer together. Peeta did the best he could, kissing her forehead and held her hand even though she knew she was near breaking his fingers. And if she thought her body didn't feel like her own during these last long 9 months, it was nothing compared to this. It acted on its own, moving and cramping and widening to make room for this baby to be born.<p>

It went on for hours. It was the middle of the night before Mrs. Ghira told her it was time to push. Push. Pushing meant bringing the baby into the world, right there for her to see and hold and protect. This was all going to start. Oh, God it was really going to be here.

She turned to Peeta, to scared and in pain to say what she was thinking. But he smiled at her, squeezed her hand back and told her that he loved her. Somehow that made it okay, gave her enough strength to look back at Mrs. Ghira and pushed. Oh, God did it hurt.

It felt like hours she pushed and pushed and broke Peeta's fingers before suddenly the pain was dulled and there was a scream filling the room. She fell back against the pillows, dizzy and unbelieving, that the screaming, angry, red little _girl _("A girl… a baby girl, Katniss." Peeta whispers in her ear) is actually hers. Mrs. Ghira cleaned her up, cut the cord and lay her down on her now empty belly.

She was… she was so… "She's beautiful." Katniss breathes, tears blurring her vision of that little beauty, so she quickly blinks them away. Touches her soft skin and marvels at how smooth and tiny and _amazing _she is. She takes her hand, almost laughs. "Look at how tiny her fingers are!" She cries, astounded.

The love… the pure, untainted, sweet love that she has for this little baby is surprising. It feels new and incredible, but at the same time old as time itself. This is a mother's love for their child. This is what it feels like to be a mother.

"She's loud as hell." Haymitch says from the side. But she hears the happiness, the love in the old man's voice. He loves this new little girl too. So loved…

"She's perfect." Peeta says and when she looks at him he's crying, so happy for this. This is what he wanted, after all. It was her who was surprised. She was the one who didn't know how much she would love this little girl. But she was here and Katniss loved her more than anything. Would protect her, love her, and make sure she's always happy.

"Perfect." It's the truth. There has never been anything more true. Katniss presses a kiss to her head, holds her close. Loves her.

* * *

><p>Her brother is born when she is five and three quarters. They name him Alexander. He looks like Peeta; fair skin and blonde hair. Her eyes are in miniature, staring straight back at her. He's just as beautiful, just as loved. And Alyss thinks he is just the greatest thing ever. She's a good big sister, helping mommy with the bottle, entertaining him and sitting and explaining the facts of world importantly.<p>

When they grow older, she is just as loving toward him. They fight and she gets jealous when he needs more attention but she will still hug him to her chest and kiss his knee when he falls on his chubby legs. She's a good big sister.

They are aggravating; take all she has to give, loud and obnoxious and so stubborn. Some days Alyss will give her nothing but attitude and her brother will cry and Katniss wants to pull her hair out. But then Alyss gives her the drawing, the one of her and mommy and daddy and Alex and look, there is Aunt Prim up in the sky, watching over them. She smiles, proud and delighted when mommy tells her it's a beautiful picture. Hugs it to her chest and hangs it from the fridge for all to see. Alex will giggle at mommy when she drops his cereal all over the floor and nearly burst into tears because she didn't sleep at all last night. It's his first laugh and it's pure and amazing and Katniss laughs with him. She gathers her to him and kisses his chubby cheeks and hugs him to her. Oh, they are the hardest thing she has ever done but they make her the proudest. They said the world was a good place now because of her and Peeta's sacrifice. They fought a war and created a new world for others. They should be proud of themselves for what they did. But to Katniss, these two little kids, running all over the yard laughing and screaming, they are what make her proud.

With their attitude and their crying and the drawing and the cookies they bake with daddy. They are the best thing she has ever created.

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